


Jake Peralta is Definitely Going to be the Best Dad Ever

by mwrites



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Set Vaguely In The Future, also featuring gross NYC trash cans, minor head wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwrites/pseuds/mwrites
Summary: When Amy, stuck in the hospital on bedrest, sends Jake home, he really intends to go home. But a run-in with Captain Holt and Cheddar completely derails his plans.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KagekaNecavi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KagekaNecavi/gifts).



> Merry Yuletide, everyone! Here's some semi-paternal Holt and Jake, with a side of Cheddar being his rascally self.

“Jake. Jake.” From the sound of Amy’s voice, she’d been calling his name for a while.

Jake blinked a few times and mumbled something that in no way resembled intelligible speech before he recognized the fond and exasperated look on Amy’s face that would be accompanied with her hands on her hips if she weren’t stuck in a hospital bed. 

“Jake,” Amy said again, and he took her hand.

“Yes, oh lovely soon-to-be-mother-of-my-child?”

Amy rolled her eyes but smiled. She looked exhausted. “Go home, Jake. Take a shower, sleep in a real bed, and come back tomorrow morning. Me and the watermelon seed will still be here.” 

Jake opened his mouth to protest, but a nurse popped his head in right then and said, “Visiting hours are almost over for today,” in an overly cheerful voice and immediately left again.

Amy glared at Jake. “Do not try to get around this rule. You need to shower. Go.”

It was useless to argue with a pregnant lady, especially one who was currently fed up with bedrest and still had a week to go until the baby was due. Sometimes, Jake knew when to cut his losses. “Of course, my love. Anything you want me to bring in the morning?” He bent down and gave her a kiss. 

“Just you.” 

Jake grinned dopily at her and was leaning in for another kiss when someone cleared their throat from the doorway. A different nurse stood there, looking apologetic. 

“I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over, and it’s time for Ms. Santiago to receive her medicine. 

“Go,” Amy said, trying to sound strict, so Jake blew her air kisses as he walked backwards towards the door, nearly plowing into the nurse on the way.

Once he was in the hallway, he headed towards the elevator with all of the significant others who had stayed at the hospital as late as they could. They were varying levels of exhaustion and worry, and none of them looked particularly happy to be leaving, so at least Jake was in good company. No one spoke as they filtered out into the hospital lobby and out the doors. Jake winced as the cold air hit his face and turned up the collar of his coat, less for its minor wind protection and more because it made him look cool. 

Jake was halfway home when he saw a familiar figure up ahead with a dog. “Captain Holt!” 

Holt raised his hand in a wave, and Cheddar started wagging his stumpy tail.

“Hello, Peralta. How is Santiago?” Holt asked when Jake was next to him.

“Ehhhhh,” Jake said.

Holt nodded sagely. “Please convey to her my greetings and well-wishes,” he said, bending down with a plastic baggie to retrieve the dog poop. 

Jake stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Did you have a question, Peralta?”

Somehow Holt managed to look composed and knowledgeable as he straightened up and placed the baggie of poop into a trash bin. Jake kept fidgeting. 

“What if I mess this up?” he blurted out.

Holt only raised an eyebrow. He was wearing what Jake thought of as his Thinky Face, which meant that he would carefully consider his words before responding, so Jake plowed on. “This kid, I mean! I mean, my dad sucked, so I know what not to do, but Amy’s had good role models all her life, and she’s read a million books about raising a kid and has started talking about how to talk to our kid about puberty and peer pressure and all of that is so far away and should I be doing more and—why are you smiling?”

Holt was smiling now, not his terrifying shark smile or his polite smile, but a new smile that Jake had never seen before. “Because you care, Peralta. Even though your father ‘sucked’, as you say, you are determined to do better.”

Reassurance from Holt was a rare gift, and Jake was a little shocked that Holt, of all people, would actually have something reassuring to say about parenting. He opened his mouth to say something, he didn’t know what, but he didn’t get the chance. 

Right then, Cheddar must have seen a rat or something, because with a bark, he took off. Unfortunately, it was tangled around Jake’s legs. With a cry of alarm that he hoped sounded very manly and not at all like Boyle, Jake fell over. He hit his head on the edge of the trash can on the way down, but managed not to do a full faceplant into the pavement. He tentatively pressed his forehead, to see how bad it might bruise, and was startled to feel blood on his fingers.

“Shit shit shit,” he said, getting back to his feet. 

Cheddar was as far away as the leash would let him be, barking his head off at something Jake couldn’t see.

“That was unfortunate,” Holt said, holding out a pack of tissues. Jake took them all and wadded them up against the cut on his face.

“Thanks. I don’t think that trash can is very clean.” Jake leaned in to look more closely at the trash can, then thought better of it. If he was going to die of some bizarre illness contracted from a trash can, he really didn’t want to know. Except he couldn’t really die now, because Amy would kill him.

Jake didn’t register that he’d said that last bit aloud until Holt put his hand on Jake’s shoulder.   
“Peralta. You should return to the hospital for stitches and perhaps a tetanus shot.” 

“Stitches,” Jake muttered. “Amy’s definitely going to notice that.”

Unbelievably, Holt laughed. “Cheddar, heel,” he said, and then, to Jake, “I will accompany you to the hospital, Peralta.” 

They walked in silence back to the hospital, and Holt paused right outside the doors. “Cheddar and I will return home now.”

“Thanks, Captain,” Jake said, after a moment. 

“You’re welcome, Peralta.”

Jake spent the rest of the night in the emergency room, holding the bloodied tissues to his face as he listened to the woman next to him argue on the phone in some other language and the TV across the room blared ad after ad.

Amy definitely noticed the stitches, because she gasped when Jake came into her room just as soon as visiting hours started. “Jake! What happened to you? I told you to go home, not get hurt!”

“I’m fine.” Jake waved off her concern and leaned in to kiss her, but she twisted her face away.

“God, you smell worse than yesterday! What did you do, roll in trash?”

Jake laughed. “No, just hit my head on a trash can while talking to Captain Holt and had to spend the night in the ER.”

Amy gaped, realizing that if this were a lie, it was much less elaborate than the ones Jake usually came up with. “Captain Holt? What did he say?”

“He said hi to you, only using fancier words. And then he said that he thought that I’d be a better dad than my dad, because I’m trying.” Scratching the back of his neck, Jake sat down in the chair next to Amy’s bed.

Amy’s expression softened. “Of course you’re going to be a better dad than your dad. You’ve got Charles and Terry to help you out, and I’m sure Holt could offer guidance, too—he’s almost a father to me, you know…”

Jake let Amy ramble on, and smiled, thinking that even if his dad—his real family—hadn’t loved him as much as he should have, his friends cared about him more than enough to make up for that.


End file.
